


Tonight, We Pretend- One Shot

by Yxtchel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 11:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8531023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yxtchel/pseuds/Yxtchel
Summary: They each took and gave comfort as they basked in the insularity of their cocoon. It was in complete darkness that Bellamy saw Clarke best; her walls crumbling under the intimacy of their connection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Writing is cathartic for me and I found solace in writing this One-Shot in light of our current political plight. I find it unfathomable that we can cheer and get behind strong, fictional female characters and when it counts we allow misoginy to dictate the future of our country's affairs. That's my little rant for the day...Back to the matter at hand, Clarke rocks...and it is my hope that the writers eventually consider taking her down this path.

He watched her walk away, bearing the heavy burden of what was to come.  Always the martyr, he thought, following her down the worn path to the familiar place she visited often.  She squatted near the water’s edge, dipping her hands into the cold water as she scrubbed the grime and blood away.  Maybe it was something else she was hoping to wipe clean.  It was hard to tell these days; her thoughts and feelings often disguised behind the mask of strength.  And yet, she’d chosen him out of all others to share in that burden, leaving him feeling strangely unbalanced.

 

Her muffled sobs brought him out of his conflicted thoughts and he stepped out of the tree line, announcing his presence.  Clarke wiped the traitorous tears away and steadied her breath before speaking. 

 

“I don’t want to talk about this Bellamy” Her voice cracked with fatigue and he squatted down next to her, looking up at the glowing sphere shining down on them.

 

“Neither do I Clarke”

 

He held her sad gaze, watching the mix of emotions cross her features.  She was still mourning the loss of her lost love but Bellamy was tired of waiting for the opportune time and gently pushed the tendril of hair away from her face. 

 

“Just this night, let’s pretend you and I,” he began.  “Let’s pretend that we don’t carry the weight of our people’s survival on our shoulders.  That we’re just two people hanging out…You, the stubborn ass know it all I’ve come to respect and me…well, the same handsome me” he finished sending Clarke into a fit of laughter.  He smiled and waited patiently, surprising her with the intensity of his gaze.  Bellamy pulled her closer, tightening his grip on her shoulders as he searched her gaze for any signs of doubt.

 

“Clarke…” he whispered in question, hoping his desire wasn’t betraying his better judgment as he leaned forward.  Her lips quivered against his but she didn’t pull away.  Bellamy took that as an invitation, his hunger evident in the kiss.  Clarke’s shaky hands traveled behind his neck and that was all the encouragement he needed as he brought her body down to the ground.  They ignored the dropping temperature as clothing was removed, finding warmth in their embrace.  The stillness of the night became background to their soft and urgent moans as they tasted, ravaged and explored.  Thoughts of the coming apocalypse were forgotten to the reprieve of human skin.

 

They each took and gave comfort as they basked in the insularity of their cocoon.  It was in complete darkness that Bellamy saw Clarke best; her walls crumbling under the intimacy of their connection.  Bellamy held her naked body close, damning the nearing dawn.  Their bubble would soon burst and the brave warrior knew the rising of the sun would bring back the stoical façade, he’d grown to loathe.  He inhaled her scent and kissed her soft lips one last time, weakening his grip.  Watching…waiting…hoping, to see what she’d do next.


	2. In the Name of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m toying with the idea of putting together a series of one-shots as a continuation of my original theme.  This one coincides with Season 4 Episode 3.  I have incorporated part of the dialogue from the featured episode into this one-shot.
> 
>  

 

**In the Name of Love**

 

Clarke looked down at the two remaining spaces on the list.  For every name she’d chosen, she was in turn sentencing hundreds more to die.  She dropped the pen from her grasp, curving her palm against her mouth, in hopes of silencing her broken sobs.  Bellamy lay fast asleep a few yards away; his chest rising rhythmically in peaceful slumber.  They had an equal amount of blood on their hands, but Clarke couldn’t fathom a world where he ceased to exist and scribbled his name next to 99. 

 

Clarke was tired; sinking under the weight of responsibility.  She had foolishly allowed herself a moment of weakness with him, and was now paying the price.  The loss of Lexa had nearly broken what remained of her humanity and here she was again, setting herself up for more loss.  But if Clarke was being honest with herself, she would admit that being with him had felt like the most honest thing she’d done in a long time.  He was her equal in every way; had gone to hell and back with her, and after everything was said and done, she couldn’t think of anyone better she’d rather be facing the apocalypse with.

 

Clarke had been burying herself in work; anything and everything to deny him the opportunity to steer the conversation towards their night together, but she knew it was only a matter of time.  Regardless, in two months time, none of this would even matter.   Jaha’s theory had proven wrong and all evidence pointed towards another culling.  Clarke’s tears flowed freely; so consumed in her dilemma that she failed to see the tall, muscular figure standing in front of her.

 

“If I’m on that list, you’re on that list.  Write it down”

 

His penetrating gaze left no room for mistaking his seriousness, and Clarke could only shake her head mournfully.

 

“Bellamy, I can’t”

 

“Write it down or I will”

 

His hand was already reaching for the pen and she watched him write her name next to the final spot.  The sick irony of it left a nauseating taste in her mouth.  100 names…and this time, it was she who was orchestrating a similar list to the one her father so avidly opposed. 

 

“So what now?”

 

“Now we put it away and hope we never have to use it”

 

“You still have hope?”

 

“We’re still breathing”

 

Clarke welcomed the warmth of his hand and leaned into his touch.  Bellamy caressed her cheek tenderly, and forced her gaze up towards his.  His eyes pierced hers, and Clarke recognized the indecision in his eyes.

 

“Clarke…”

 

He was seeking consent once again and she so desperately wanted to give it to him, but knew that it would only hurt them both in the end.  He mistook her silence for assent and Clarke stood from her chair, trying to place some much needed distance between them.  It was the look of hurt in his eyes that had her scrambling to explain.

 

“Bellamy, I…”

 

“Clarke, I’m sorry to interrupt but Abby needs you”

 

Raven balanced herself by the door unsure, clearly uncomfortable with stepping into their conversation.  Only a fool would fail to notice the tension in the room and Raven was no fool.  Bellamy gave Clarke a weak smile before grabbing his jacket from the couch and walking out of the room.  The two young women walked in silence as they made their way to the med bay area where Abby was examining Luna.   Her symptoms had subsided and Clarke looked between both women for a reasonable explanation.

 

“How?”

 

“There’s only one variable between Luna and the rest”

 

Clarke felt a spark of hope as the answer dawned on her.

 

“Nightblood….”

 

Abby smiled at her only daughter and Clarke began making plans of her own.  Time was not on their side to change humanity’s fate but things suddenly appeared clearer.  Leaders made hard choices…leaders sacrificed.  She hadn’t asked for this appointment but had accepted it with as much grace as she could muster.    _From the ashes we will rise_.  The answer was in Luna’s blood and time was ticking...Clarke wanted the opportunity to see her people thrive; wanted the chance to see if Bellamy’s path was parallel to hers, but if they didn’t break the puzzle in time then there was only one thing left to do.  Number 100 on that list was now null and void…

 

**Playlist**

In the Name of Love-Martin Garrix & Bebe Rexha


End file.
